


Lessons in Advanced Arbor Construction and Shower Mechanics

by LevelSetPower



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: AU, Builder like construction worker fyi, Fluff, Flustered!Yeosang, Jongho is a builder, M/M, Muscled!Jongho, Sorry I use the word builder I know not everyone calls it that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LevelSetPower/pseuds/LevelSetPower
Summary: The problem was that Yeosang was also physically unable to construct said garden furniture. He was strong (ish?) sure, but some of this stuff involved tools or techniques he’d never even heard of. Who knew there were two types of drill? Or like seven types of screw?So, he had hired a guy who came on recommendation from his friend Seonghwa. He’d assured Yeosang this guy, Choi Jongho, could do garden stuff as well.Choi Jongho first arrived at Yeosang’s house nearly two weeks ago, and that was when things started to go downhill for Yeosang in a big way.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 12
Kudos: 153





	Lessons in Advanced Arbor Construction and Shower Mechanics

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends!
> 
> Sorry to come to you with something so short!! I don’t know what happened to me haha, Maybe Summit Fever sucked up all my writing energy for the time being. But I have written this cute little thing inspired by the actual construction of an arbor in my garden by me and my dad and my dear friend Helena suggesting it become a fic. Happy birthday Helena! 
> 
> Anyway, I’m hoping to get back to posting longer multi-chapter stuff soon. I have some ideas already! The quest for jongsang dominance goes on!
> 
> Thanks everyone!! See you on the flip side!

Yeosang regretted his garden renovation plan. He regretted buying the fucking outdoor swing. He regretted being born.

Our hero had decided to spruce up his garden in light of his shed falling apart and summer being around the corner. Since he worked from home, editing manuscripts from his desk overlooking his sad-ass garden, he felt the need to make it look less pathetic. Plus, he was the only one of his friends with a large enough garden for summer BBQs, and Wooyoung had already initiated his attempt to get Yeosang to agree to purchase some kind of smoker so he could make his own bacon. Which Yeosang guesses, maybe, would be fun?

He had poured over catalogues, swatches, jealousy-inducing YouTube video tutorials and even fucking plant encyclopaedias. After much arduous wood-and-soil-based agonising, he had finally got a design he was happy with. His new garden would include an arbor for sitting on, complete with a cute rounded roof, a swing made to hang from one of the branches of his large oak tree, and a pretty picnic table. He also, against his better judgement and probably several local fire department bylaws, bought a barbecue. 

However, the problem was that Yeosang was also physically unable to construct said garden furniture. He was strong (ish?) sure, but some of this stuff involved tools or techniques he’d never even heard of. Who knew there were two types of drill? Or like seven types of screw? 

So, he had hired a guy who came on recommendation from his friend Seonghwa. Seonghwa had recently got his and Hongjoong’s bedroom repainted, and after raving about him one night over ramen and showing off the admittedly impressive results, had given Yeosang the builder’s name, saying he was “next-level qualified and hardworking”. He’d assured Yeosang this guy, Choi Jongho, could do garden stuff as well. 

Choi Jongho first arrived at Yeosang’s house nearly two weeks ago, and that was when things started to go downhill for Yeosang in a big way. 

On the very first day he was scheduled to work, the builder arrived at around 8.30 am, almost criminally early for Yeosang. The editor usually woke up and crawled out of bed at 9, and he had no assumptions for a builder arriving earlier than 11 am. Didn’t they usually rock up late, scratch their butt and leave as early as possible, having consumed most of the house’s tea?

So when the first day came and the doorbell rang at 8.34 am, Yeosang shot up out of bed like he’d been stung. He ran to the door, thinking he’d finally got that package he’d been waiting for, still dressed in his oversized long-sleeved sleep shirt and boy shorts, hair all over the place, pillow-lines on his face. 

He swung the door open, hand outstretched ready to receive said package. But at his door stood not the hi-viz clad postman Yeosang had been expecting, but a dude in a muscle tee and gym shorts, holding a hammer. His buff form was clear to see, as well as his doe eyes providing a counterpoint to his immense muscles that Yeosang couldn't not note. 

He squeaked in pure shock (and slight horniness. Sue him, okay?), closing the door over again in a pitiful attempt to protect his modesty and hide his reddening face. 

“Um, hello! I’m here for the project out back? You’re Yeosang, right?” Jongho said warily through the tiny crack of the door still open. 

“Oh! Yes, sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so early. I’m so sorry” Yeosang poked his head out of the door and took in the man’s appearance. Along with his doe eyes, he had a round face and superbly pinchable cheeks, and a tan stretching over all the muscles visible around his (admittedly minimal) outfit. 

“No worries! Uh.. I’ll just… meet you round in the garden if that’s okay?” Jongho asked, looking everywhere except at Yeosang’s face, and Yeosang nodded from his door-shielded position.

“Great! Yes thanks!” Yeosang squeaked once again, slammed the front door shut and ran upstairs. 

He scrambled to dress like a normal functioning human being, throwing on a sweater and track pants, and brushing his hair. When he crept downstairs he was happy to find Jongho not robbing his house, or even poking around his living room. He found the builder in the back garden, assessing the boxes of furniture Yeosang had bought. He was checking things off on a list using a clipboard (what kind of builder had a clipboard?) and looked up with a smile when he noticed Yeosang. 

“Ah, hello! Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I like to be punctual with my work, I know it’s not common for people in my trade.” Jongho smiles, hand outstretched for Yeosang to shake.

The editor took it, shook it and tried to give a smile to portray how normal, sane and functional he was as a human being while also noting how small his hands were compared to those of his new hired muscle. He also tried to not look at the builder’s arm muscles flexing around the clipboard (how heavy was that fucking clipboard??).

“So, uh. How does this work exactly?” He asked, gesturing to the pile of boxes of garden furniture, paint and plant bulbs.

“Well.. I can just get on with it, really. I’ll call down if I need anything but I don’t want to distract from your work, Mr Kang”

“Oh, please call me Yeosang. And great. I’ll just be upstairs if you need anything. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Actually, I’d love a coffee if you had one?” Jongho asked, smiling widely.

“Oh, sure! I definitely have coffee” Yeosang took his chance to retreat back into the house and put the kettle on. He brought out the mug to Jongho who by then had progressed from clipboard to actually opening some of the packages. When Yeosang placed the mug down on his patio, the builder smiled and shot Yeosang a wink.

And things had gotten worse from there, really.

On day five, Jongho had finished the arbor and was onto varnishing the wood. Yeosang had found himself increasingly distracted as he worked, placing his chin on his palm and just gazing out at the man working under the hot sun. On that day, Jongho had worn a tank top that left very little to the imagination. His arms did the most work as he navigated around the arbor getting the varnish into all the nooks and crannies, and Yeosang suddenly realised he’d been watching Jongho for an hour. 

Snapping out of it, and realising the man must be parched from all that work, he rushed downstairs to offer Jongho a drink. 

In his haste to get down the stairs, however, he tripped and flailed down to the ground floor with an ungodly shriek. 

After the shock of the fall had somewhat waned, he came to his senses and realised Jongho was right there, smelling of wood varnish and sexy man scent, and fretting over Yeosang like he was dead on arrival.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay, Yeosang?” He was inspecting Yeosang’s body for any obvious signs of impending death, but Yeosang knew he wasn’t too badly hurt. He knew he’d have mad bruises come through, but nothing more.

“I’m fine, Jongho. I’m a klutz so my body is used to this” he mumbled out, trying to ignore the shooting pains from his back.

At this, Jongho stopped, and fixed his gaze on Yeosang.

“You should be more careful from now on,” he said assertively, and grabbed onto one of Yeosang’s hands, “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” 

The pair held eye contact for an amount of time that Yeosang’s shock wouldn’t let him process properly, but it felt like long enough. After whatever time it was, Jongho seemed to snap out of his daydream and stood. Yeosang prepared to get himself together and stand up, but was suddenly being manhandled.

Jongho held onto the man underneath his knees and around his waist, carrying him into his living room they were in a cheesy Hallmark movie.

“What-what are you doing?” Yeosang could only squeak.

“Making sure you get to your next destination safely,” Jongho actually, legit, winked, “I’ll get some ice and be back.”

The thought of Jongho knowing him, and his house, well enough to know where he kept his ice blossomed something within Yeosang.

So that brings us to now, day 12. Jongho had made fabulous progress, and had nearly finished planting the decorative flowers around the edges before he got to work on the swing. He’d also done all of those jobs with no shirt on, ever since the falling-down-the-stairs incident. He would also come to the house in the morning with a shirt, and all the best intentions in the world, but by 11 am the heat had clearly become too much as the builder wiped his forehead sweat on a towel he had started bringing especially for forehead-wiping purposes, and began asking Yeosang for more glasses of water. Yeosang wasn’t sure if the holding-in-arms, getting-Yeosang-some-ice day had anything to do with triggering this development, but he honestly couldn’t say he was complaining. He had spent much more time staring out the window lately, and a lot less time editing his manuscripts. 

That particular day, Jongho was working on the trellis for the tomato plants, facing away from Yeosang but giving a spectacular view of his back muscles while doing so. Yeosang was fully enraptured, the article he’d been reviewing long forgotten on his iPad, having sat there for at least 20 minutes.

However, it wasn’t meant to last, as suddenly the heavens well and truly opened, and rain was pummelling his house, garden and his hot builder.

Shit.

Yeosang ran downstairs (safely this time) as Jongho rushed to gather his equipment (clipboard included) to prevent them from getting drenched. By this time, Jongho himself was quite completely soaked, his cargo shorts sticking to his legs and his bare chest dripping. Jongho seemed to be conducting some kind of internal debate, glancing left and right before taking shelter underneath the oak tree. Yeosang was confused; why wouldn’t he come in the house? 

Yeosang flung the door open and beckoned Jongho inside. After some initial refusal, and some aggressive miming from Yeosang, the builder ran across the garden and flung himself in the door, truly drenched. 

The builder was clearly attempting to keep himself to himself, and looked almost ashamed. Yeosang tried desperately to not look at the man’s glistening chest.

“Uh, I’m really really sorry” Jongho said, voice small and unsure.

“Huh? Why are you sorry?” Yeosang asked, taken aback.

“I’m dripping all over your carpet. I wasn’t prepared for the shower, I’m so sorry” the builder apologised profusely. He squelched around the back door area, attempting to place down some of his equipment without drenching the place.

The display of (idiotic) professionalism had Yeosang floored. He would absolutely let Jongho into his house no matter his state (no matter anything, really) and yet here the man was, willing to wait outside in the downpour rather than cause a minor inconvenience that Yeosang hadn’t even considered as mattering in the slightest.

Yeosang snapped out of it as Jongho tried to take off his sopping boots, reminding Yeosang that he was, in fact, shirtless and wet in Yeosang’s house.

“Please, take a shower here. Can’t have you driving home like that!” Yeosang Insisted, desperately trying to maintain eye contact for fear of his wandering gaze.

Jongho glanced up, surprised, but gently nodded his head, This action flung more water all over the place, including on Yeosang, but the man just laughed.

“Come upstairs with me” he said, realising how weird that sounded immediately after saying it. Jongho’s muscled chest seemed to redden, but whether it was due to the questionable comment or the increase in temperature from being inside, Yeosang didn’t know.

Jongho made his way to the bathroom, knowing its location from his past few days at the house, and Yeosang went to his room to get a towel. While there, he took several deep breaths and thought with an extraordinary amount of detail about mouldy cheese to ensure he didn’t embarrass himself. But really. Really. A hot (and wet) builder was in his house. In his shower. About to use said shower. 

Upon returning to the bathroom after some more Brie-based meditations, he shoved the towel through the crack in the door, desperate not to look in case he died right then and there. A hand poked through the crack, grabbed the towel, and disappeared again.

FInally, Yeosang felt relieved.

However, the door actually swung open again. Jongho stood, a little sheepish, holding the towel around his waist. His muscles still shone in the fluorescent bathroom lighting, a deep V peeking out just above the towel. 

Yeosang was going to die. 

“Hey, so, one more quick thing. How does the shower work? Sorry. It’s always, like, a thing using other people’s showers. You know?” The man babbled nervously. 

Yeosang took a deep breath and stepped closer to Jongho to get to the shower. He did have a slightly weird electric power shower unit, so Jongho’s confusion was somewhat understandable. First there was the temperature sett-

He was suddenly pushed against the wall of the bathroom opposite the shower. Another screech left his lips, as his started at Jongho’s face now only inches from his own, wearing a worried expression.

“Please tell me I haven’t been misconstruing this?” The builder asked, suddenly incredibly sheepish. 

“You mean, you’re interested in me?” Yeosang asked, “you saw me watching you?”

“I can see very clearly into your office window, yes” Jongho grinned, “I was hoping you weren’t just observing my varnishing techniques”.

The editor sighed and resigned himself to his fate: being constantly Put Through It by Choi Jongho.

“So are you gonna kiss me or are you just using me for my shower?” Yeosang winked in response, and Jongho immediately took action.

He tightened his grip around Yeosang’s waist and pushed his lips onto the other man’s. Yeosang reciprocated with the enthusiasm of his pent-up frustration from the last few days. Jongho kissed in the same way he built garden furniture; methodically and carefully, with a great sense of patience and love.

As the pair continued their dance of tongues, Jongho’s grip continuing to tighten and one hand travelling down to Yeosang’s butt, and Yeosang’s hands running through Jongho’s damp hair. The editor also managed to snake his hands down to Jongho’s chiselled chest, now even more taut with all the builder’s tensed muscles. After so many hours of looking, he could finally touch. 

“You sat there staring at me with your cute glasses and long legs… wearing all those boy shorts...Jesus Christ..can’t get you out of my head” Jongho mumbled in between kisses. 

“I don’t even know how you’re real” Yeosang whimpered in response, “I want you to build stuff on my lawn for the rest of eternity”.

Jongho giggled, “that can be arranged, I’m sure.”

The couple were enthralled in their activities, and thus unknowingly knocked the switch to turn the shower on, because suddenly water was splashing down on them with as much ferocity as their kissing. For a second, Yeosang thought his roof had somehow sprung a massive leak and the rain from outside had got to him. He screamed at the shock, and Jongho immediately lifted him out of the way of the spray. He placed Yeosang on the toilet, turned the spray off and, stark naked, tried to tend to Yeosang’s shivering form. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry!” The builder fussed, trying to wring out Yeosang’s shirt, “I somehow always fuck up around you, huh?”. He continued to fret around Yeosang, trying to dry off his clothes but also not push his very-exposed dick into Yeosang’s face. His words had no sadness to them, however. 

With a confidence that Yeosang didn’t know he had in him, he just stood up, removing his sopping clothing. Jongho’s face was a picture of surprise, stepping back to allow the other man to strip, averting his eyes once again. Yeosang, however, had none of it, grabbing at Jongho and turning the shower back on. 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this wasn’t too short or cheesy (although I know it is both of these things haha), big love everyone!


End file.
